


Not yet

by drcalvin



Category: Elisabeth (Színház), Szentivánéji álom | A Midsummer Night’s Dream - Szakcsi/Müller
Genre: Crossover, Fae & Fairies, Fairy Tale Elements, Gen, Last Dance, Mortality, Spirits, Three meetings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-03
Updated: 2015-11-03
Packaged: 2018-04-29 16:17:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5134151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drcalvin/pseuds/drcalvin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three dances Death nearly had with Oberon and Titania.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not yet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kira_K](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kira_K/gifts).



> A little treat trying to do something with the prompt: "Or Elisabeth crossover: A crossover of Death and the immortal fae (Oberon or Titania) would be awesome. How would they deal with each other?"
> 
> This is compliant with the end of Szentivánéji álom, where Oberon and Titania have become mortal. But not entirely ordinary despite that...

"His Majesty – Death!" 

The applauses are restrained, but all eyes turn to the white-clad being announced. Nobody dares ignore Death, not even at this gathering of the undying. There is nothing which lasts forever; in an egg, to a garment, or in a hairy heart buried beneath the sea, there waits always a key for Death's pale hand.

The spirits of the trees and flowers bow sweetly before Death, who without any change to his cold features inclines his head, somber respect. Every winter, he puts their trees to sleep and pinches off their flowers. But these spirits of wood and vale are more than the fragile matter they hold stewardship over, and rise again when spring calls them forth. What they know of Death, they keep to themselves.

The brightly burning stars look askance upon Death. He may visit the green lands at the end of every season, familiar and sometimes even welcomed. But he comes only once to pluck the stars from the sky, to hide the last gleam of their light in his black hair, untouched by any living sun.

The dark lady of the mountains and the mines knows Death well. He visits whenever her lamp grows dim, comes to steal her folk away. What she knows of Death, she has learned in the darkest tunnels and she keeps this knowledge to herself. But she curtsies stiffly when Death gazes at her, yet curls her lips in disgust when he moves further into the room.

But it is Titania, gaily laughing fairy Queen, who alone dares hold out a hand to Death and asks him for a dance. The entire ball, with its thousands of beings and spirits and powers, freeze in shock and outrage, silently awaiting his response. 

"Most regretfully, my Queen, I must decline." Death's lips hover above her pearl-white hand, as close as he comes to kiss; a promise. "Not just yet."

* * *

He mourns her, does Death, and the shadows of the world sigh and weep as he passes. He misses her, does Death, and the graveyards fill with sobs and anguish when his longing echoes into the mortal world.

"Will you tell me of your lost love?" asks Oberon one night, when King and King meet before of a willow tree. 

The fairies are dancing upon the lake, stirring the mist even as they join it and become it, before they part its folds and illuminate the night. 

Already, a lost mortal has been trapped by the sight and her was the death that called the cold king to the bottom of the lake.

"Why do you think this has anything to do with love?" Death spits, his usual icy calm full of cracks, like the new-formed ice over dark waters.

"What else hurts as much as love?" Oberon responds, a hint of humor coloring his voice. "We make mistakes, we struggle, we become fools… but at the end of the day, without love, we are nothing. Not even shades."

"I am Death. I am myself, my duty, and I have no need of the foolish infatuations that plague you and your kin."

"Not everything in the world must be about need. If you do not wish to speak of it… Why not join us in our dance, forget for a while?"

"No," Death replies. "Not yet."

"Of course not," Oberon says, laughing, before he presses a kiss to the pale cheek. "Til next time, then!"

And he rejoins the dance.

* * *

Death finds them shivering beneath a pine tree, it's thick branches shielding them from the slowly falling snow. Their horse lies dead outside, with a nasty broken leg and nothing stirs in the deep, dark woods.

They are still uncommonly beautiful, though hardship and humanity has taken its toll. In Oberon's hair gray streaks are visible, while smiles as well as worries have etched lines into Titania's face.

"Come," Death says, kneeling before them, as wished he to gather a beloved child into his arms. "Come, Titania, come Oberon, proud mortals that you are…"

They stir, restless, and Death's smile widens. "Come dance with me. At last."

"Not yet, my Lord." From between the angles of snowflake steps Puck, arms crossed and smil grim. "You may have the final dance with us all, but for a little longer, you'll have to wait."

"Still hoping, lost spirit?" Death does not withdraw his hand, taps instead Puck's chest with a sharp-nailed finger. "You too, will learn to dance to my tune, one day. They've offered, you know."

"Yes," Puck says, and lifts his head proudly. "They offered most gallantly – I was there, I saw! – and you declined. Do you not owe them the same courtesy in return?"

Death looks at the couple with cool, measuring eyes. "Only a few more years, weakening, wilting away… what does it matter, in the end?"

"It matters to the children we will see grown," Titania replies, her voice trembling in the cold. "Oh, I can no longer see you, my lord, but in this cold I hear you just fine. And I return you the answer you gave me at a ball so long ago – not yet!"

"And so you cling to life, hopelessly? Or is it to this little spirit you put your hopes?" Death does not even look at Puck as he speaks, only at the slowly stirring Oberon, at Titania who clutches so desperately his hand. "A final trick, once you have had enough of mortality?"

"There is no trick here," Oberon says. "Only love." His eyes closed, he reaches out a hand and finds, impossibly, the edge of Puck's sleeve. Tugs it closer, caresses Puck's arm. "It is very cold tonight and all the lakes lie frozen. But I ask, my lord, for the sake of a dance held by another lake, not so very long ago… Can you not give us more time?"

"But I am in the mood for dancing tonight," Death replies, his lips curling in a smile. "Beneath the stars, I ask for a dance."

"And I shall be _delighted_ to provide it!" Puck cries, yanking Death away by his frost-skinned hand.

For an endless moment, it seems as if Death shall stumble, or turn and rage; then his smile grows, breaks with laughter, and Puck crows in triumph.

Throughout the night, the dancing wildly in the snow, the voices of once-queen and once-king providing them with music.

When sunrise comes, it melts away the snow and warms the air. Before the pine tree, nothing remains but the echo of song and muddy tracks leading away, along the mortal path.

**Author's Note:**

> If the ball scene at the beginning seems familiar - yes, yes I have read The Sandman: Endless Nights, and it probably shows.


End file.
